Pucker Up

The kiss of death in a theatre callback, it seems, is an enthusiastic director telling you how wonderful your choices were, how great you are, and how hard you're making it for him to cast the show. Roughly translated it means: I didn't expect to enjoy your performance, I called in a friend to read for this part, and even if I like your reading better, I'm now obligated to cast her and you are out of luck.

So, though I'd be surprised and elated if I got a casting call today, I'm not holding my breath for it. With no other interesting shows on the horizon and a lot of free time ahead, my focus will turn to an actual (gasp!) job hunt.

I'm finding that, in this larger market, the effort required to find a job is somewhat greater than I'm used to. In smaller markets, jobs found me. Here, I've gotten no response from resumes, demos, and airchecks sent to agents and radio stations. Erm... what happened to my small pond?

But all is not lost: a town this size has plenty of restaurants.

Are you ready to order?